


I Bet

by alabaster_wings



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, More Fluff, One Shot, Really cute, Wish me luck, bets are the best, blind kid whoops, fingers crossed, harry plays the rebel boy yipee, hoping for feels, im a fluff person myself, no clue what's happening anymore, who doesn't love making bets?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-10
Updated: 2013-12-10
Packaged: 2018-01-03 07:24:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1067680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alabaster_wings/pseuds/alabaster_wings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis is the blind guitarist that might have a slight obsession with making bets. Harry is the rebel without a cause that probably shouldn't be trusted with the blind kid.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Bet

Louis remembers the exact day he lost his sight.

He'd been seven. There had been an  _intense_ game of footie in the neighborhood that night. He hadn't even seen the car that hit him. 

Irony's a total  _bitch_ that way.

He also remembers with stunning clarity the day he met Harry Styles. Granted, it had only been two years ago. But still. Louis had been jostled by a rather rude man while on the subway, and he'd ended up dropping his cane. Instead of having to flounder around like a complete knob, someone had been kind enough to pick it up and hand it to him. That someone had been Harry rebel-without-a-cause Styles.

And that one act of kindness had turned into a seemingly immortalized friendship. Louis didn't have many friends, and definitely not any that treated him  _normally_. But Harry did. Harry sometimes even forgot that Louis was even blind when they were spending lazy days around their flat or when Louis was feeling extra confident while on stage. 

Of course, Zayn and Liam had been less than pleased when they'd found out who Louis was suddenly spending nearly every waking moment with. They were adamant that Harry Styles was a scoundrel (Liam had actually used that word) and that Louis shouldn't trust him. None of that mattered much to Louis, though, because, well, he couldn't  _see_ the tattoos and piercings and dark clothing Harry always wore that gave people a bad vibe. 

All Louis knew was that sweetly deep voice that could coax a laugh or a grin out of him in only seconds. 

So, being Louis, he ignored his bandmates. 

He  _always_ reached for Harry to get out of the car,  _always_ waited for Harry's arm to guide him to the stage before a gig,  _always_ made a point to seek out Harry if he got disoriented or lost.  _Always_. It didn't matter much that Harry was obviously beautiful (if the amount of people who threw themselves at him were any indication) and clearly out of Louis' league, because he didn't so much as let someone buy him a drink when he was with Louis. 

So, being Louis, he read too far into it. 

At least, that was  _his_ reasoning for going and falling for his best friend. It was, absolutely,  _Harry's_ fault that Louis was crushing on him, because he was overtly sweet and caring and considerate. So. It wasn't Louis' fault. No matter what, that was the one thing Louis was certain of when it came to Harry.

He couldn't be blamed for falling for Harry. He  _couldn't._

-

Having to sort of curl his entire body around Louis in order to whisper in his ear  _and_ guide him around the room, Harry had his hands on Louis' waist as he spoke, "On the left is the stage steps. Straight ahead your guitar is waiting for you. And over in the back corner Liam and Zayn are glaring at me. Pretty standard."

Louis giggled, unable to find it in himself to push Harry away even though this was clearly dancing on the Line, "So I've decided on a bet for this evening." How could he  _not_ make bets with his best friend? It wasn't as if he could just  _say_ that he'd gone off the deep end for his best mate and was too chicken to say anything. 

So he made not-so-subtle bets that were probably more than a little too subtle for Harry.

"Took you long enough," Harry teased as they got to work turning Louis' guitar together, Harry moving Louis' fingers to the right tuners and making noises of affirmation when it sounded right. Their usual routine of doing a one-person job together.

Louis strummed slowly, wishing for the millionth time that he could just  _see_ , "I bet that at  _least_ seven people are going to offer you a drink tonight."

"If you're wrong, I want to use your strawberry shampoo for the week and you can't give me  _shit_ about it," Harry demanded, the grin evident in his voice. He always wagered for something like being able to wear Louis' beanie or use his shampoo or something dumb like that.

And the fact that it always made Louis' heart flutter was really no one's business but his own.

He felt a little bit  _exposed_ as he took a breath and said, "If I'm right, I'd like you to kiss me." Usually he'd want something stupid like for Harry to let him ride on his back for a week or to be able to pick what they ate for dinner or something ridiculous.

But he didn't  _want_ to be ridiculous anymore.

Zayn was there before anything more could be said, though, "Lou, showtime."

Louis jumped to his feet too fast and clutched a little helplessly at his guitar, chewing on his lip, "Well, c'mon then, bring me up." He felt like such a  _wanker_ for even saying something so stupid to Harry, and now he was fighting that familiar urge to cry or scream or do  _something_ that he  _couldn't_ because he was blind and he couldn't just  _run away_.

"I'll do it," Harry was there immediately, prying the instrument from Louis' fingers and taking his arm gently. "Can I concede now?" he asked as he helped Louis up the five steps to the stage, breath hot against Louis' ear.

Louis shook his head, keeping his head ducked down and his features schooled as best he could, "No, you most certainly can _not_. I'm ashamed that you'd even  _ask_ such a thing."

"Well, then I'd like to change my bet," Harry attempted, something unfamiliar in his voice that Louis  _knew_ he'd be able to understand if only he could just  _see_.

But he _couldn't_ so he shook his head firmly, "No.  _Forbidden_."

"Then I'm making another bet," Harry tried again, fiddling with the guitar strap across Louis' shoulder as an excuse to stay.

Louis could  _feel_ his bandmates' impatience that Harry was still onstage, so he huffed and waved a hand, pretending he didn't  _care_ , "Alright, fine, if you must. What is it?"

"I bet that I'm going to kiss you by the end of the night." 

Louis would have most definitely toppled over had he not been sitting down, and his voice rose sharply even though he tried  _desperately_ to keep his composure, "And if you're wrong?"

"I won't be," Harry promised in his ear before his warmth receeded and Louis knew he was alone in his spot on stage. He felt Zayn tap his shoulder twice, signaling they were starting, but it was sort of distorted.

His ears were ringing.

Luckily, playing guitar was as easy for Louis as breathing (which was actually quite difficult in that moment), so while his mind was busy going  _shitshitshitohmygodshitshitshit_ , his fingers were strumming perfectly. Louis prided himself on  _not_ screwing up when he played, mostly because of everything Zayn and Liam sacraficed by letting him into the band. If he weren't blind, or if he weren't in the band, Zayn and Liam would be off playing sold-out stadium tours or something.

Instead, they were playing in dingy bars with shitty audio equipment and Louis felt like it was all his  _fault_.

Not in that moment, of course, since he was still having trouble processing everything. He felt a little bit more than dazed as they finished up their set, his voice sounding weird to his own ears as he said goodnight to the audience. He had half a second of feeling utterly lost after that, just like always, where that small part of his brain expected to be left stranded onstage like an idiot.

But Harry was there in an instant, slipping the strap of Louis' guitar over his shoulder and probably touching more of him than strictly necessary as he straightened out Louis' shirt, "Wicked set, Lou. 'M proud of you."

"You always say that," Louis pointed out as a way to distract himself from the way Harry held onto him as they made their way down the steps. He trusted that wherever Harry was leading him was where he needed to go, so he didn't even bother trying to process the surroundings. 

Harry pressed closer still once they were on flat ground, having handed Louis' guitar off to one of the other boys, "And I always mean it. C'mon, lemme tell Niall I'm skipping drinks tonight and we can go home, yeah?"

"Yeah," Louis hummed, relishing in the warmth Harry was providing. As much as he knew he probably shouldn't, that he'd only regret it more later, he just couldn't  _help_ it. Not when Harry had said he was going to  _kiss_ Louis, and he'd  _meant_ it.

Or, well, so Louis assumed.

-

By 11:30, Louis was convinced he'd imagined the entire conversation. 

Slumped on the couch with a cuppa in hand, he tried not to let his lips purse as he drowned his sorrows in "The End of All Things" by Panic! At the Disco. Harry had disappeared the moment they'd gotten to the flat, giving some excuse for a shower or something.

Louis couldn't remember with how hard he was trying  _not_ to cry. 

He just felt so  _stupid_.

Not for the first time, he wished he could see so he could just get up and  _leave_. But he  _couldn't_ and it was just so utterly  _awful_. It wasn't  _fair_ that he had to feel so completely  _humiliated_ and he couldn't even do anything about it because he couldn't  _see anything_. Instead of being able to leave or throw something or  _anything_ , Louis was stuck on the couch with half-formed tears in his eyes and depressing music.

By the time he remembered his phone in his back pocket, he felt so horribly  _pathetic_ that he couldn't even bring himself to call Liam and vent. 

So he carefully set his full cup down on the table and shuffled along the wall until he got to his room. Pulling the door closed behind him, he huffed and leaned back against the wood, fisting his hands over his eyes, "Stupid."

"Lou?"

Louis jerked so quickly that he nearly fell flat on his face, and he instantly flushed, "Oh, sorry, did I get the wrong room again?"

"No," Harry said plainly, sounding like he was sitting on the bed.

"Oh." Louis' embarrassment was quickly turning into anger because how  _dare_ Harry. "Why are you in my room?" Even when he  _wanted_ to be mad, he still couldn't muster up even a decent bitchy voice with Harry.

Sigh.

"Because I've got some things to say to you and I've been trying to figure how to say them." When Louis obviously wasn't satisfied with that answer, Harry huffed, "C'mere, then. I'm not gonna bite."

Louis chewed on his lip for a moment, giving the pretense that he  _actually_ had some semblence of control when it came to Harry. He didn't, so he sighed and made his way carefully over to his bed. Climbing up gingerly, he crossed his legs and  _refused_ to grin when Harry shuffled so that their knees were pressed together. "This better be good."

"Well, first of all, only  _three_ people offered me drinks, so I've already started using your shampoo," Harry started, and Louis could  _hear_ the grin in his voice.

"Wanker," Louis huffed, twisting his fingers together for lack of something better to do.

Harry made an overdramatic shushing noise, slapping his hand over Louis' mouth, "Hush! I'm not done!" Clearing his throat, he turned serious enough to make Louis' heart pick up, "So I know you haven't seen yourself since you were, like, seven. But, well, you're sort of the most beautiful person I've ever seen. And--"

Louis felt sort of pukey, so he did the only thing he could think of, "Wait, I've got anothr bet. I bet it's past my bedtime and I should really get to sleep. Oh, would you look at that? I'm right." He was such a  _coward_.

But. Well. 

Harry didn't sound amused, and his massive hands fell on Louis' knees, "Louis."

Louis' shoulders wilted and he sighed, dropping his chin. And he waited.

"Right. Where was I?" Harry muttered, sounding unsure of himself now, "Right, right. Okay. Louis, you're my best mate. Only. Well. I don't think normal people think about their best mates as much as I think about you. Like. All the time, really. 's a bit mental, honestly. Because you're really the only person that trusts me with you, and sometimes I don't even really trust myself with you. But you don't ever even  _doubt_  that I'm going to be there or that I'm doing what's best for you."

"New bet. I bet you used my kiwi body wash too," Louis blurted, a bit helplessly.

He felt Harry shrug, and the pukey feeling intensified, "Yeah, I did. Stop changing the subject. I'm trying to tell you I'm completely gone over you, stupid."

Louis' pretty sure he stopped breathing.

"What?" he huffed, feeling helpless and a little bit trapped.

Harry sounded so exasperatedly fond that it almost  _hurt_ , "Lou, I've been in love with you for  _months_. The only reason you haven't noticed is because you can't see the stupid hearts in my eyes like everyone else. And I didn't want to  _say_ anything because you never hesitate to need me and I didn't want that to change or to make you question asking me for help. But then you said--"

"I bet I'm in love with you too," Louis interrupted again, wishing a little helplessly that he  _could_ see the stupid hearts in his best mate's eyes.

"Hey, Lou?" The stupid grin in Harry's voice washed over Louis and made him warm all over.

He fought off his own stupid grin, "Hey, Harry."

"I'm gonna kiss you now." Harry chuckled when Louis closed his eyes, but he still pressed closer. Stopping just a breath away, Harry's hand came up and his thumb brushed over Louis' bottom lip, "I bet you thought I wasn't going to kiss you."

"So why don't you shut up and prove me wrong?" Louis demanded because he was Louis and that's what he decided he wanted to say with his fingers hooked around Harry's collarbones and his forehead pressed to Harry's and his two year fantasy finally,  _finally_ coming true.

And then their lips were meeting, Harry pressing a tentative kiss to Louis' top lip before pulling back a fraction. He repeated the movement with Louis' lower lip, lips curving into a grin. Pressing one more barely-there kiss to Louis' top lip, Harry pressed forward completely and captured Louis' mouth completely. Teasing his tongue along the inside of Louis' mouth, he licked into the older boy with a desire that had Louis melting.

Louis pulled back because he was a bit overwhelmed, "Wait, hold on. Pause.  _Where_ did you learn how to kiss?  _Jesus_."

"Daisy Lee in primary school," Harry stated proudly, already dragging his tongue along Louis' bottom lip again.

Louis groaned because he was so  _screwed_ , " _Stop_ that, damn it. I'm  _trying_ to carry on a conversation with you like a _civilized_ human being. So stop trying to _maul_ me."

"Talking's overrated," Harry murmured, trying to advance yet again.

For once, Louis sort of agreed.

**Author's Note:**

> cheers
> 
> xx
> 
>  
> 
> check out my quotev:  
> Alabaster Wings (http://www.quotev.com/14907271) if you wanna check out more of my work


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